Blood
by headtrip parade
Summary: Even the darkest night eventually leads to dawn. Based VERY LOOSELY on spoilers for upcoming episodes. What will it take to finally get Rayna and Deacon back on their path?
1. Prologue

**_So I've read some spoilers through the upcoming episodes and this is something I put together based VERY LOOSELY on those spoilers. Without giving too much away, I just really feel like something is brewing to finally get Rayna and Deacon back on the road they need to be on. This is something I can envision taking place._**

**_That said, this story is extremely angst heavy. Please be wary if you prefer sunshine and butterflies. _**

* * *

><p><em>Blood.<em>

Dickie Caylor had been with Tennessee Highway Patrol for almost 25 years; a quarter of century of work and he tried unsuccessfully to come up with an occasion in which he had seen so much red life spilt on the roadway. It was everywhere, it seemed—on the ground next to the mangled Audi, in the grass, and most prominently in the westbound lane of Highway 96. He sighed, running his gloved hand over his salt-and-pepper hair as he watched the second victim be loaded into the LifeFlight chopper.

He closed his eyes and whispered a prayer as the door slammed shut and the helicopter lifted, finding solace in his words as chaos and the most offensive doom trickled down around him.

_The LORD will protect him and preserve his life; he will bless him in the land and not surrender him to the desire of his foes. The LORD will sustain him on his sickbed and restore him from his bed of illness._

_Lord, be with those kids. _

His eyes fluttered open slowly, observing the action before him that seemed to be transpiring in the slowest of motion. There were troopers and firefighters, paramedics finishing their reports, the men from the wrecker service… everyone had a job to do, including himself, but he couldn't help but stand frozen in the knowledge that these poor souls could have been his own children.

He always got nervous arriving at the scene of such a vicious accident, but it was always tenfold worse when it was a situation such as this.

"Caylor!" A fellow trooper shouted from across the highway. He glanced up, acknowledging the man with a single nod. "Sergeant's wantin' you to do notification and go to the hospital. I'll wrap up here."

Caylor nodded, sighing sadly as he approached what remained of the vehicle. If he had to guess based on skid marks, the car had lost control at a high rate of speed about 100 feet down the road before slamming into fence post and ultimately landing around a tree.

He knelt down carefully, inspecting a leather handbag protruding from underneath the passenger's seat. He shook it gently to remove the glass, softly stroking it with his hand to get any pieces that were left lingering.

Standing and walking towards his cruiser, he began rummaging through the bag. There was a make-up bag, an iPhone with a purple glittery case, and a flowered leather wallet.

His heart sank as he pulled out the student ID, realizing at that moment that this girl was merely 15 years old. He felt himself crumbling at her bright, infectious smile as he scanned over the card until he finally found her name.

_Madeline Jade Conrad._


	2. I

Rayna tried feeling.

She tried to know that the pavement was pounding beneath her feet, probably sending shockwaves to her knees that would radiate violent stiffness in the next 24 hours.

She tried to care that she was never, _ever_ a runner and that her inexperienced breathing techniques were probably doing her more harm than good. Hell, she tried to remind herself that she was even breathing at all.

She failed at all of it.

She felt nothing; knew nothing. She cared about nothing but getting through those doors—those awful, robotic, uninviting doors.

The name Vanderbilt was synonymous for so many with wealth, privilege, and excellence. For her it just meant cold. She knew the second she got through she would be unable to feel anything; she knew her blood would run so frigid she would have actual ice pumping through her body. She knew everything would feel like hell; like _death._

She finally reached them.

It felt like it took hours for them to open, but the second she was inside she realized she had nowhere to go. She'd ran so far, so hard, and so fast but for nothing—no one was there to meet her and she couldn't gather the sense to go somewhere and ask where she was supposed to go. She felt confused and scared. She was the epitome of lost.

"Ms. Jaymes?"

Her stomach dropped. Here it was—the moment that meant none of this was a nightmare; the moment it became so very real.

She slowly turned her head to face her caller—a tall, fairly slender but still muscular trooper with salt-and-pepper hair and a gray mustache. His eyes were caring; his face careworn but soft.

"I'm Trooper Caylor. I believe we spoke on the phone."

She approached him apprehensively, still trying to force the notion that this was not happening.

"Yes. I'm Rayna Jaymes. Is Maddie—"

The man gently touched her shoulder and smiled sadly.

"Ma'am, we have a private room ready for you. If you'd like to go there we can—"

There were no tears, but there was trembling. Her voice had somehow become more powerful than her physical being as she swatted the man's hand away.

"No! You're not taking me into some room just so you can tell me she's dead. You're gonna have the guts to tell me right here."

"Ms. Jaymes," he began. "Your daughter hasn't passed, but she was in a very serious accident. She's in surgery right now."

Rayna let out a breath and stared stoically at the trooper.

"So she's okay?"

"Ma'am, the doctors will have to update you on her condition. If you'll let me take you into a private area, maybe get you some coffee, I do have some questions—"

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm not going into a room?"

Rayna gritted her teeth, watching as he offered her an apologetic smile. She shook her head violently.

"I'm sorry. I know, you're just trying to make me comfortable but I really can't go in there. Not by myself."

"Do you have anyone we can call for you?"

She shook her head again, processing the question.

"No. My ex-husband is rushing back from Raleigh and her father's on his way. Please, I just need to know what's going on."

Caylor sighed and lowered his voice for the sake of discretion.

"The crash happened in Arrington. She was the passenger in a newer model Audi—"

"She doesn't know anyone with an Audi. And she wouldn't be in Arrington. She was going to a movie with her friend Talia."

"Ms. Jaymes, this is just what we know."

Rayna sighed, continuing to suppress all violent emotion.

"The driver was a 22 year old male named Ryan Frizzell. We do have reason to believe alcohol was a factor in the crash."

Rayna pursed her lips and closed her eyes. Something… there was something so incredibly wrong with all of this. It wasn't right. Her little girl didn't go on secret joyrides with older boys—and her little girl certainly didn't drink. She knew the dangers; she was well aware of what damage it could do. _She knew better._

Everything was cloudy.

She opened her eyes as the trooper's radio began to garble something at him. He spoke into it, looking back up at her with another apology on his face.

"I'm sorry, if you can excuse me please I need to make a phone call. Are you sure there's nothing I can get for you or anywhere I can take you while you wait?"

Rayna shook her head, offering the best gracious smile she could muster. It wasn't much.

"No, thank you."

She watched as he walked away, leaving her in the entrance of the hospital all alone. People were coming and going; stopping at the information desk, but she was _alone. _

Her thoughts and every fear permeated her from the inside out and she was sure she was losing control, but she couldn't. Not here and not like this.

She had to be strong for Maddie, where ever she was. She had to focus on her prayers. She needed to get down on her knees and beg God for mercy for her sweet girl.

So she went to the chapel.

* * *

><p>Rayna marveled in the silence and the comfort it brought.<p>

She'd found that a time like this could make it so very easy to question, but she chose to question nothing and believe everything.

She chose to believe that her God was merciful, as while he had not delivered her own mother from such a biting fate, he had delivered her. She had been at his door in this very hospital, but he chose to give her another chance.

She'd thanked him not so long ago for her blessings; she'd thanked him for letting her live, but now here she was… on her knees not only thanking, but begging.

A quiet creaking interrupted her and she instinctively raised her head and turned it towards the sound.

And there he was.

His face was pale; his eyes solemn. Beads of cold sweat formed at his brow line from running relentlessly down the halls to seek her out.

She stood, finally allowing a single tear to slide down her cheek.

It would have been easy for them to awkwardly keep their distance.

It would have been easy for her to say out loud that God had given them both a second chance and she had effortlessly foiled it.

It would have been easy for her to beg him again and _again_ to take her back after she had mangled his heart and he rightfully walked away from her once and for all.

It would have been _so_ easy for her to admit that she was wrong about everything; that she was too little too late.

But it was even easier to forget all that.

It was easy for her to run to him.

It was easy for him to clutch her for dear life as she screamed, finally letting the anguish overtake her for the first time since receiving that gutwrenching phone call.

The two of them slid to the floor, both completely overcome with grief for their daughter. She gripped his shirt, asking _why_ over and over and over while he buried his face in her hair, whispering with an unwavering uncertainty that everything was going to be alright.


	3. II

_**Sorry for leaving you guys on a cliffhanger with this one. That's not typically my style, but I think it works here. :)**_

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><p>"Thanks." Rayna mumbled, taking the coffee from Deacon's shaky hands.<p>

He nodded and took a seat next to her, silence embracing them as they both took to their own thoughts.

Rayna focused on the cup in her hands, retreating further and further into a state of shock as they waited on the doctor to come in and confirm or deny their biggest fears.

Deacon shifted his gaze to various items around the room. Rayna had finally agreed to come into the room they had provided her to wait when Deacon convinced her anywhere and everywhere in the hospital was going to be just as nerve-wracking and at least in the room they'd have some privacy.

It was a good point, he supposed, but he understood the second they walked in why she'd been putting it off. While warmly decorated, the room was absolutely frozen. The paintings of gardens were generic, the couches, while upscale, were worn by so many others before them who sat in the same predicament.

He didn't want to say anything to her because he wanted her to be as calm as possible, but his skin started crawling right when they went in.

His eyes floated to the mint green leather purse in the floor, opposite Rayna's. There were specs of dirt on the outside of it, as well as a few tiny shards of glass.

"That hers?"

Rayna nodded solemnly.

"Yeah. We went shopping last week."

Deacon sighed and gingerly reached for the bag, pulling it into his lap. He grinned sadly as he traced his fingers over the design etched on the front. The bag was so _her._

He glanced over at Rayna; coffee in one hand, face buried in the other. He wanted to go to her as he had earlier, but something stopped him. He sighed angrily at himself for even considering that their whole awkward mess could even be at any forefront at this time, but if he was being honest, the raw moment had passed. They'd cried and screamed and held each other because they were scared and mutually hurting, but then they'd picked themselves up; they'd gathered a fraction of their senses and walked out of that chapel and into the room they now occupied.

His mind wandered to all sorts of places—the day he lashed out and told Maddie about his ill-fated proposal; the day he was threatened with a lawsuit and practically kidnapped on tour to purposely be kept from his daughter; the day he let his pain get the better of him and fucked a backup singer in a truck stop like some junkie.

He shook his head of the memories, moving on to the next part of his rollercoaster.

Rayna had gone against all good judgment made some flattering comments about their relationship in a magazine, effectively ending her relationship with Luke and landing her on his porch in the middle of the night again.

This time, he'd rejected her. He was over it, he thought. Just as he'd hurt her all those years, now it was time for them to face what she had done to him. Just as she had to be strong and move away from his toxicity, so was it his turn.

Everything was different.

He'd come home to his daughter, but she seemed broken to him. He wanted to help her; he wanted badly to heal her hurt, but she was on another plane.

He'd spoken to Rayna and asked what they should do, to which she had responded with a flat "she's gotta find her way."

He could be angry with her for that now, looking around at where they were. Maddie had certainly "found her way," he thought bitterly.

But it was that moment, while Rayna ignored yet another phone call that he couldn't be angry with her—he'd missed the signs just as easily.

He sighed.

Even in the depths of her pain, she was beautiful. He was taken aback at how seeing her beauty always managed to ease his own pain.

A vibrating in his lap snapped him back to reality, and he quickly surmised it was coming from inside Maddie's purse. Startled, he rummaged through it until he found her phone.

No name came up with the number.

"Ray, someone's callin' her."

Rayna's tearstained face turned upwards.

"Who is it?"

He shrugged.

"Just a number. I don't know. Should I answer?"

Rayna collected her thoughts for a moment and nodded slowly.

"Might as well."

He swiped the answer bar on the phone and pulled it to his face.

"Hello?"

He heard background noise, but no answer.

"Hello?" He asked again, with a slight bit more annoyance.

"Dad?"

His head snapped up like he'd heard a thousand angels sing the sweetest chorus; he was certain his grief had finally brought along hallucinations.

"Maddie?"

What came next wasn't some hazy wish or figment of his imagination; it was real. It was honest, it was true, and it was the moment he would remember forever as the moment he finally felt he was no longer being punished for his transgressions—he was _finally_ forgiven.

"How'd you get my phone?"


	4. III

**...and here's the end. Again, this was based on very loose spoilers. Thanks to everyone for reading. Hope you enjoyed. :)**

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><p>Rayna picked anxiously at her fingernails, fighting the urge to open the truck door and just start running down the interstate.<p>

"Is this the fastest you can go?"

"I'm doin' 85, Ray."

She let out a heavy breath, resisting her instinct to chew through the seatbelt with her teeth if that's what it took to get out of his vehicle and be where she needed to be.

She'd been ill at her stomach for the last thirty minutes.

This twist of fate was divine, she knew. It was also sickening the way every twisted puzzle piece came together, as Maddie had all but confirmed within 30 seconds on the phone that she had been to places she wasn't supposed to go to with people she wasn't supposed to be with.

She'd felt uncomfortable in the car and a fight ensued, resulting in her walking several miles to a Franklin IHOP. In her buzzed anger, she'd left her purse in the car.

Rayna had fallen to her knees sobbing at the realization Deacon was speaking to their daughter. She'd then grabbed the phone from him, simply telling Maddie over and over again that they loved her and they were on their way to where ever she was.

Rayna now choked on the guilt rising in her throat, recalling vividly the moment she had to flag down the doctor and tell him there'd been a mistake; the moment she had to confront who may actually be laying in that bed.

She swallowed.

"What are we gonna tell her?"

He shook his head confidently.

"I just wanna hold her, Ray. The rest of it can go to hell."

* * *

><p>Deacon plowed into the parking lot at an absurd rate of speed, much to the dismay of some late night diners. A couple scoffed, a couple more yelled at him to slow down, and he could not have given less of a shit.<p>

He parked his truck and jumped out, running into the IHOP with no reason other than his life actually depended on it.

Rayna matched him step for step.

They both glanced around frantically, Deacon's frustration mounting at his inability to spot his daughter in the small restaurant.

_I know she's here… she called from here._

He ran his hand over hair as he gave one more look around the place, exasperated.

"Deacon—" Rayna grabbed his shoulder and pointed to a small, hidden booth back by the bathroom. She took off running while he let out a shaky breath of relief and placed a hand on the wall for a second to steady himself.

If it were to be time stamped, 12:07 AM on a frigid January Sunday morning would be the single best moment of Deacon Claybourne's life. It was then he realized that his daughter was the most beautiful sight to ever grace his planet; that his entire existence was wrapped up in her; that _she_ was his purpose.

He'd said to Rayna not so many moons ago that every moment they'd shared had been leading them _here_, and he'd questioned that when she went down the other path. He couldn't question it any longer—whatever he and Rayna's futures held together, he'd been right all along: they had a point, and it was Maddie. She was beautiful and intelligent and _so _talented and they'd been brought together, for better or for worse, to create her.

He followed Rayna's lead and quickly approached Maddie's booth, not caring for the moment about her heavy makeup or short skirt or tired eyes. It didn't matter right then—all that mattered was he thought she'd been ripped from him and so easily, almost _too_ easily, she'd been handed back.

He pulled her close, giving a silent thank you for his answered prayer while Rayna quite literally smothered her with kisses.

"God," Maddie squirmed away, rolling her eyes. "What is wrong with you two? You're embarrassing me."

Deacon chuckled awkwardly, taking notice of the coffee and toast on her table. Quite suddenly, he was awash with the reality of the situation and his grin faded.

"Ray, you wanna get her outside? I'll take care of this."

Rayna nodded solemnly, looking over Maddie once more and asking for the 50th time if she was okay.

Maddie rolled her eyes again, assuring her mother she was fine as she was led out of the establishment.

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

Rayna held onto Maddie's arm for dear life; afraid to let her go.

"You know I love you more than anything, right Maddie? That'll never change. I don't care what kind of trouble you get into, where you go, what you do… I'm always here for you, okay?"

Maddie squirmed uncomfortably, still unable to grasp the weight around her.

"Yeah, I know. I love you too."

Rayna glanced at Deacon as he approached, unlocking the truck so they could all slide into their respective seats.

Maddie scoffed upon the realization that Rayna was climbing into the backseat with her as opposed to the front.

"Mom, seriously!"

Rayna sighed, looking to Deacon for support. He adjusted the heat before turning to face them, giving Rayna an encouraging nod.

"Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me—"

"Mom, can this please wait 'til tomorrow? I really just wanna go home."

Rayna shook her head.

"No, honey. I'm sorry. I need to tell you what happened tonight."

Maddie backed off, raising an eyebrow.

"Um, there was an accident. Right in Arrington… Ryan Frizzell's Audi. Do you know him?"

Maddie nodded.

"He's friends with a couple of girls I know. I left my purse in his car. Is that how you got my phone?"

Rayna nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Sort of. Sweetie, it was a really bad accident. Since your stuff was in the car they thought it was you, so they called me…"

Maddie blinked hard, focusing her gaze on her mother.

"Is he okay?"

Rayna shook her head, placing a hand on Maddie's knee. She gave Deacon another glance.

"No, baby. They took him to Vanderbilt but he didn't make it. There was someone else in the car, they thought it was you—"

"TALIA?!"

Maddie shrieked; her eyes begging Rayna's to deny what she knew.

Rayna's eyes welled as she looked to Deacon for answer.

"Yeah, sweetie." He choked. "It was Talia."

* * *

><p>Rayna shut the door behind her after letting Teddy out.<p>

His plane had landed right about the time they got Maddie home, which allotted him a few minutes with her before she cried herself out and fell asleep. He'd then finished a glass of bourbon while Rayna and Deacon filled him in and they discussed the next course of action.

There would be consequences, of course, but the main concern was getting her through her best friend's injuries.

Talia had suffered extensive head and facial trauma in the crash and even had to have a portion of her skull removed to allow for brain swelling. They'd determined this was a large reason why the state troopers and doctors had failed to make the connection in regards to proper identity, relying instead on Rayna to make the identification upon realization that Maddie was in fact unharmed.

As it stood, Talia's recovery (assuming there would even be one) remained to be seen. Maddie was begging to see her, but the three of them had agreed it may be beneficial to hold off until some of Talia's physical wounds had healed.

Rayna sighed, locking the deadbolt and chain lock out of habit.

She turned around, somewhat startled to still see Deacon sitting in her den.

"What? You scared of me now?"

She grinned and walked to the chair opposite him, rubbing her face.

"No, it's just been a long day. Kinda forgot you were here, if I'm being honest."

He chuckled and took a sip of his water.

"We were just talking like 30 seconds ago."

She nodded, grinning shyly.

"You know," she began. "I never thought I'd see the day when you, me, and Teddy could all sit down, share a beverage, and talk rationally about the girls, or anything. I swear this whole day has been from the twilight zone."

Deacon sighed.

"Yeah, well. The three of us talking ain't the worst that could happen."

Rayna shook her head, picking at her fingernails.

"No. I'd better—"

"I'm sorry, Rayna."

She glanced up, confused.

"For what?"

He brought his eyes to hers, the weight of the plastic water bottle crinkling beneath his nervous grip.

"All of it. Everything. 20 years ago, one year ago, five months ago, today… why are we still doing this?"

She swallowed the chunks in her throat and innocently looked down at the hardwood floor as if she were inspecting a single spot that needed the utmost attention when the cleaners came next.

"Doing what?"

"God," he stood, walking towards her with a healthy, albeit confusing, cocktail of confidence and apprehension. "I told you before that I think every good time and bad time and time in between for us has been for a reason, but you walked away. Then you came back and said the same thing and I shut the door in your face."

Rayna avoided his gaze, trembling beneath the inertia.

"You did."

He knelt to her level in the chair, tenderly placing a hand on her cheek.

"I call a truce. Both of us stop running."

"Deacon—"

"Rayna, listen to me. I thought our daughter was gone today. We both did. We didn't know which way was up and at the end of it when we found her… all I could think about was Talia's parents having to get that message and know that there is no second chance coming—she's not gonna call them from an IHOP."

Rayna blinked away tears, still careful to avoid his gaze.

"This is still how it's supposed to be. You and me. The girls. You're all I want. I never should have shut that door. I saw that today."

Allowing the tears to finally spill, Rayna wrapped her arms around his back, pressing every bit of herself into his strong physique and clutching for dear life.

She'd envisioned this moment; wanted it. She'd cherished it on the rare occasion it would visit her in a dream. She never wanted it to manifest like this, but at the end of the day their family was all that mattered.

How it was built couldn't be up to them.


End file.
